


Duality and Amalgamation

by accidentaltsundere



Series: Antithesis [3]
Category: Voltron: Legendary Defender
Genre: M/M, klance, krolia is in it this time and i love her, part 3 of this cliche mess
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-04-04
Updated: 2018-04-04
Packaged: 2019-04-18 09:22:25
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 4,219
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/14210079
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/accidentaltsundere/pseuds/accidentaltsundere
Summary: Lance never thought his first big love story would happen in outer space.





	Duality and Amalgamation

Keith never thought that leaving the team would mean finding his mother, but life works in mysterious ways sometimes.

The aftermath of the realization that Krolia is, in fact, the one who gave him life on a planet galaxies away, leaves Keith in a suspended state of disbelief. It can't be, right? There's no way his mother, after years of internalizing rejection, issues of abandonment and attachment, and self-hatred, could just appear back in his life. Keith is much too stubborn to accept this as fact immediately.

Krolia is patient, because, despite her status, she is still a stranger to Keith. She gives him the time and space to process the new reality, unfazed by his intermittent outbursts of frustration and bewilderment. It's only natural, and though her apologies don't cease, she knows her words cannot possibly heal the rift between them, at least not yet.

Footsteps click down the corridor with a quiet reluctance. Hopping out of bed, Krolia opens the door to her chamber, revealing the dark-haired boy in all of his guarded vulnerability, brows furrowed with hesitance.

"You don't even have to ask. Just come in," Krolia says, her tone gentle and inviting.

Walking inside with a confidence that diminishes with each passing second, Keith lets his shoulders slump with the weight of his emotional burden. He doesn't even notice the hot tears dripping down his nose until his shaky sobs slice through the silence of the room, and Krolia softens even further than she already has. Her own sorrow drapes their surroundings in an atmosphere of mutual melancholy.

"Did I do something wrong?" Keith squeaks out, and Krolia's heavily-burdened heart shatters with the intensity of her guilt and emphatic connection to her son.

"You could never have done anything wrong that would've caused me to leave," Krolia reassures him through his tears. Remaining a respectable distance away, she continues. "I know 'I'm sorry' isn't enough. But I want to explain."

Krolia sits on the edge of the bed, inviting Keith to join her. He sits hesitantly, leaving a large gap of space between himself and her.

"A long time ago, I was sent on a mission for the Blades. However, there was a malfunction in my ship, and I crash-landed on Earth. Back then, it was just a strange planet to me. I was pretty badly wounded, and I blacked out. When I woke up, I was lying in a cot under a thin blanket, in a tiny house. When I looked out the window, I was surrounded by some kind of desert landscape. And looming above me was a person of a species I had never encountered before—I eventually came to learn that he was human. Your father was so strange and beautiful to me. He had eyes so much like yours, and he was so kind and curious and caring. He helped me get my strength back, and after I was fully healthy, he helped me repair my ship. I guess along the way my feelings for him turned from wariness of a stranger to honest friendship, and then beyond that. I guess he felt it too, and I think we both didn't want it to be true, but I took a risk, and I stayed, for love. Eventually, I realized that I was going to have you, which complicated things, a _lot._ Your father and I were so wrapped up in the moment, though, and i didn't even want to consider the future consequences of our actions. So I stayed, and you were born."

Krolia pauses, engulfed in a memory that is as clear and drenched in emotion as the present moment, and tears flood her eyes. "You were so...beautiful. I don't even feel like that word does enough to describe just how truly otherworldly your beauty was to me. You truly were the only thing that mattered, and I never wanted to lose you. But reality set in, so much more rapidly than I could have ever wanted. I spent six Earth months with you. And I've always regretted my choice to leave. I've hated myself for returning to the Blades, for abandoning you, for leaving your father behind, for ever making you think I never wanted you."

Her quiet tears reverberate through Keith, who shares in the overwhelming despair and sorrow that her words bring.

"You could've taken me with you," Keith cuts in, his voice infinitely small and fragile in the space of the silence.

"You were just...so human. I wanted you to have a chance at a normal life."

"But how could it ever be normal without you in it?"

Krolia is silent at this, the guilt weighing down her entire being once again. The tears are hot on her cheeks, creating rivers of unbearable shame and anguish on her face.

"There is no excuse for leaving you behind, and I know nothing can ever mend what I've broken," she continues, reaching for Keith's hand in the near-darkness. She pays attention to the dips and curves of his palm in hers, and his perfect fingers, pale against her purple skin, just as they were when he was a baby.

"But I said it before, and I'll say it now. I left you once, and I am never leaving you again. That is a promise."

They exist in a silence for a while, their tears drying as Keith lets his heart slowly accept Krolia's earnest apology. The pain is still there, but it is eased in her presence. He's not alone anymore.

The two of them spend hours talking. Keith details his childhood, leading up to his encounter with the other paladins. Keith pulls out his picture of the team, pointing each member out and explaining their significance. He freezes on Lance, his voice wavering on the single syllable of his name.

Krolia smiles, sensing the restrained feelings in Keith's tone. "That boy right there. Is he special to you?"

Keith nods, biting his lip with a sudden shyness. "H-his name's Lance," he murmurs, vaguely embarrassed as rose color tints his cheeks.

"Tell me about Lance," Krolia requests, in earnest curiosity of her son's innocent love.

So Krolia listens as Keith goes into detail about the boy he so admires, his language straightforward yet very descriptive. He discusses Lance's talents, his sense of humor, his physical appearance, his personality, his family background, and more—all things he could never say to Lance directly. It's so wholesome, in Krolia's eyes. When Keith is finished, she pats his hand gently, and he relishes the contact, feeling validated by the small, simple action.

"He seems like he has a kind soul," Krolia whispers. "I would love to meet him, and everyone else you told me about." Pausing, she studies the dark-haired boy for probably the millionth time in the dim light, admiring his effortless beauty and striking resemblance to her. She has never felt happier than she has in this moment, except for the first time she met him, as a tiny infant so long ago.

Keith dozes off beside her eventually, worn out from the emotional intensity of the night. Watching over her son, Krolia drifts off into an easy, contented slumber that has become like a distant memory.

•     •     •

Keith finds reality difficult to vocalize, but after a week more of missions and getting to know his mother, he comes to the realization, through his bliss, that he needs to return to the team.

"Although I can't go with you yet," Krolia begins as she stands before her son, towering above him, "I just want you to know that as soon as I can, I will come back for you. I promise, and I mean that with all my heart." She smiles as Keith's expression softens, his small, hesitant smile brighter than any star. "I love you."

Keith's face falls at this sentiment, and Krolia feels icy cold panic wash over her at this change. But before she can utter a single word more, Keith gravitates towards her, wrapping her up in a cautious embrace.

"See you soon," he murmurs, and Krolia pats his head, watching him walk away as pride clouds her vision.

His stomach is in knots as he heads to a ship, his minimal clothing and Lance's stuffed shark packed up with him. He is a combination of overjoyed and mortally terrified. The most interaction he has had with the team has been through video calls, and he didn't get to speak to them individually, if at all. It feels like it's been an eternity since he has been with them, and he isn't sure how to feel about returning.

It is morning in the castle. The sleepy paladins, plus an energized Coran, are seated at the table, exchanging quiet chatter as they eat their breakfast. Lance is the last to arrive, cloaked in exhaustion from another night of tossing and turning. The ache of Keith's absence still pulsates through his being, coming in waves whenever his eyes fall upon the empty seat at the table.

It's just not the same. Even Matt's presence doesn't alleviate the gap in his life when Keith isn't around. On top of his homesickness, he has yet another person to miss. It's enough to cause him to spiral into darkness; at least defending the universe serves as a good enough distraction.

That's why, when Keith appears out of the shadows of the hallway, in all of his rugged glory, Lance swears he is hallucinating.

_Fuck, am I really so lonely that now I'm seeing things?_ Lance wonders, sighing in defeated exasperation. Pidge gasps loudly, startling Lance out of his self-induced brooding.

"Keith?" they pipe up, commanding the attention of everyone else. Pidge is the first to make a beeline towards him, throwing their arms around him in an embrace. "You're back!" Pidge exclaims exuberantly.

Before Keith has the chance to react, there is a whirlwind of voices, smiles, and arms around him, and he immediately feels comforted, his anxiety eased.

Lance is stood awkwardly off to the side, gazing upon Keith with unsure eyes. It's been so long, and Lance can feel the tingle of want in his fingertips, a longing for the contact he and Keith have never shared.

But instead, he smiles, as earnestly as he can manage, and simply says, "Welcome back, buddy."

"Thanks," Keith whispers in reply, shivery feelings jolting his nerves once again as he returns the smile. He is unaware of how Lance's ocean eyes dart around each subtlety in his features as he turns to speak to Shiro, taking notice of each new scar carved into his pale skin, and his ebony hair which falls effortlessly closer to his sculpted shoulders, and the new life in his brilliant indigo eyes. Lance etches every new detail into his memory, stowing them in his heart for safekeeping.

• • •

It's both mesmerizing and intriguing, watching Keith train. His movements are swift, effortless, weightless. Lance is entranced by this, noticing the increments of improvement Keith has made in his time with the Blades. He seems more mature, confident in a way that makes Lance's heart race.

Keith doesn't notice Lance is watching. If he knew, he would make an effort to impress him, although Lance is immensely impressed already, practically gawking at the dark-haired boy's skill.

Defeating his artificial enemy, Keith turns, tying his hair into an absentminded bun. His eyes fall upon Lance, and he meets his careful gaze, feeling his face flush an even deeper cherry red than from his exertion.

"Oh. Hey Lance," he greets the other boy quietly, almost shyly. Their interactions have evolved so much from the previous hostility and harsh joking, stripped away into an honest closeness with the occasional teasing.

"Hey," Lance replies, trying to seem nonchalant with his arms folded across his chest, despite how difficult it is to maintain composure while he stares at Keith's muscular arms in his sleeveless shirt. "You...you look like you've improved, since I last saw you in combat."

Keith shrugs, directing a sheepish glance towards his boots at the compliment. "Thanks. Working with the Blades made me a sharper fighter, I think."

The silence hangs between them like an invisible force.

Lance speaks again, this time with more assurance. "You know...lots of things have changed since you left," he says carefully.

Keith quirks an eyebrow, smirking in a way that makes Lance's heart want to break free of his chest. "Really? Like what?"

"Like..." Lance waltzes forward, brandishing his bayard in front of him. "This." In an instant, it has transformed into a sword, and Keith's eyes widen into black holes.

"That is...amazing," Keith breathes, in awe of the weapon in Lance's hands. Studying the ease with which the blade is crafted, Keith meets Lance's earnest cerulean eyes. "Who knew? You're actually kind of cool."

Scowling in mock-disapproval, Lance lets his bayard retract back to normal, shoving Keith playfully backwards. "And you've gotten worse at insulting me."

_God, I want to fucking marry him._

Lance's hand lingers on Keith's shoulder, the touch delicate yet electrifying. The stillness in the air is tangible, a stillness that exists throughout galaxies. Lance's hand falls away, and Keith studies him, just for a moment...Lance is more exquisite than the most ethereal painting, more stunning than any supernova, his deep-toned brown skin free of any imperfection, and his eyes—endless, cyan oceans, that Keith could lose himself in, drowning in the immense power of his magnificence.

Lance, oblivious to this reverential admiration, can only dwell on how striking Keith's presence is, filling up the entire castle with an energy that was lost to the void of space for months. If Keith never left his side again, Lance would never have to feel that gaping vacancy inside of him, the monstrous power of his vast loneliness. Keith is like his home, like aquamarine oceans with rolling waves, or the feeling of the sun on his bare arms, or the smell of fresh laundry, and his mom's cooking, and the feel of the grass under his palms, or ice cream dripping down his fingers and staining his tongue with flavor. Keith is just as special.

Keith coughs awkwardly, startling them out of their silence, and Lance's hand falls away, his anxious laugh reverberating through them both. "Anyway, uh...I should go. I've gotta do my skincare routine before bed."

Keith grins at this, his eyes crinkling in the most genuine way. "You and your stupid skincare routine. Does that even work?" he teases, but he doesn't mean a single word of it.

"Fuck you, my skin is _glowing_ ," Lance shoots back as he walks away, but there is no venom in the words. Inside, he is as jittery as a hummingbird, and his heart feels ready to fly away.

•     •     •

The familiar anxiety of battle descends once again. Lance feels the ritual tickle of butterflies in his stomach, and his shivery hands as he operates his lion, trying to keep his racing heart from bursting free of his chest.

But today feels different. Lance feels significantly more grounded, able to still his shaky breaths and gaze upon the starry world beyond with an unusual serenity.

It's chaos as usual, with five lions fighting a fleet of Galra ships. Keith fits seamlessly back into the team, and it's like he never left. Things are going as smoothly as they possibly can be, and Lance feels his hands grip the controls with as much assurance as he can muster. His teammates' words resound clearly in his ears, keeping him focused. 

That is, until he hears Keith's startled scream as a ship crashes into him, and Keith's lion is swallowed up in a fireball.

The team's first reaction is of horror, calling out for Keith in distraught tones. Lance's whole body is paralyzed, hands frozen over the controls of his lion as his heart strangles his core. His breaths come out in shallow wheezes of air, his mind as blank as an unmarked sheet of paper as the true nature of his fear washes over him.

In his state of total unawareness, Lance takes a direct hit to his lion, plummeting backwards into space. There is dead silence in his ears, which is an unwelcome sign as he hurtles farther and farther away from the team into a field of enemies.

"Guys?" he calls out, his voice cracking on the syllable as unease and hesitance reigns over his tone. "Hello, can you hear me? 'Cause I can't hear you..."

Propelling himself forward, he finds a number of ships presenting obstacles, taking them out with a determined swiftness. His heart is pounding so loudly in his ears he is terrified it might explode inside him. The rest of the team is nowhere in sight, and Keith...squeezing his eyes shut, he whimpers softly to himself, unable to gain control over his spiraling mind.

Hovering in a state of raw panic as he fends off enemy ships, Lance feels relief wash over him in waves as he spots a glimpse of the yellow lion approaching—Hunk, his saving grace. Together, they maneuver through a tangled web of Galra ships, weaving in and out of the destruction.

Heading back to the castle after another success in battle after the remaining ships scatter, Lance is overcome by apprehension that seizes up his limbs once again. He has no knowledge of Keith's well-being, and that thought terrifies him beyond belief. Hot tears spill down his cheeks as he dashes out of his lion's hangar, sobs racking his body violently. Lance remembers being with Keith just the night before; remembers his quiet softness, and impressive accuracy while training, and his laugh, and his teasing tone while they spoke. Tearing off his helmet and clutching it close to him, the distressed brunette boy runs all the way into the main area of the castle.

And there Keith is, in all of his glory, quietly beautiful as he stands away from the rest of the team. His ebony hair is ruffled from his helmet, and he chews his lip in silent brooding.

Lance's presence in the doorway invites the attention of the room, everyone noticing how he is choked with sobs, tears in a constant stream down his deep brown cheeks like waterfalls.

Without a single inhibition, Lance throws himself into Keith's arms, never pausing for even a millisecond to consider that the prying eyes of the other paladins are on him. To say Keith is startled would be an understatement, but he accepts the embrace with the gentle kind of honesty ever-present in his actions.

"H-hey, it's okay," Keith whispers, his tone coated in honey as Lance chokes out broken words. "I'm okay, I promise. I'm here. And I'm totally fine."

Lance looks up, meeting Keith's earnest and concerned gaze through the blur of tears in his eyes. The atmosphere is so intimate that their surroundings fade, Keith attentive to the tears that streak Lance's dark complexion like tiny diamonds. He is so undeniably beautiful, even through his anguish. There is a shared vulnerability between them, and a closeness that communicates more than a million words ever could.

Maybe it's the adrenaline, or the residual terror they felt for each other's lives. Maybe it's just that the moment is so imperfectly perfect, and both boys feel their souls sing with the vibrancy of a thousand stars. Either way, their lips meet before either of them has a chance to interpret the situation, kissing with a gentle kind of desperation that sparks fire in their veins.

Keith has never been one to believe in fate, or destiny, or that two people are meant to be. But Keith can't deny the connection shared between them—the amalgamation of their very beings in the moment, of raw emotion and unadulterated understanding.

Lance breaks the kiss with a dazed grin. It is from up this close that he sees a new depth to Keith's attractiveness—the tiny scars scattering his complexion, the curve and slight slant of his nose, the softness of his skin—and before he can stop himself, the words are tumbling out: "You look hot."

Keith floods scarlet to the tips of his ears, the compliment rendering him speechless. Instead of searching for the right words, he captures Lance in another kiss, their lips fitting together clumsily yet in the best way.

Pidge's exaggerated " _Awww_ ," startles the boys back into reality, and they spin around to face their teammates, including Coran. Hunk is beaming proudly, his hands clasped together like an overjoyed parent. Shiro is smiling fondly upon the two boys, his usually stern gaze softened at the sight. Coran simply seems shocked, eyes practically bulging out of their sockets as he absorbs the situation. On the other hand, Allura and Pidge are high-fiving amidst Pidge's quip of, "I told you so," to which the blue paladin sweeps silver curls over her shoulder with an amused nod. "I had my suspicions."

Turning back to the dark-haired boy with as he rolls his eyes at his so-called friends, he sweeps him into another kiss, smiling at his squeak of surprise as he melts into the contact, returning it with the gentleness from before.

"Oh my god, you guys can go be gross somewhere else now," Pidge groans, to which Keith only extends his middle finger in their general direction, too immersed in kissing Lance to care.

"Come on, let's leave them be," Hunk tells the team, escorting them out of the room and leaving Lance and Keith alone.

• • •

Skin fully exfoliated, Lance leans back in bed, letting his eyes slip shut as the weight of the day settles over him like a blanket.

Kissing Keith was probably top three in Lance's best life experiences thus far. He still feels stars explode in his chest when he remembers how it felt, his heart doing backflips as it pounds to the rhythm of his elation.

They haven't had a conversation about the way they feel for one another. Not yet, at least. Earlier, they parted ways to take showers and saw each other again at dinner, bombarded by light teasing by the other paladins until Shiro got everyone to settle down. After that, the team passed the night telling stories of their pasts, playing games, and spending time with one another in the simplest way.

Lance's train of thought is derailed by a soft knocking on his door. A particularly cruel swarm of butterflies tickles his stomach, rippling in waves throughout his body. "Come in," he calls, sucking in deep breaths to still his suddenly erratic heart.

Keith appears in the doorway, Lance's worn stuffed shark curled underneath his bicep. Lance feels a glimmer of déjà vu, the familiarity of Keith's nighttime visits being a ritual he missed more than he would ever admit.

"Hey," he greets the dark-haired boy, who sweeps a hand through his ebony locks shyly, soft hesitance framed by the sapphire-tinted darkness.

"Hi."

Lance lifts the blankets to make room for him, but Keith shakes his head.

"No...not yet," he explains, tone teetering on the edge of panic. "Um...I have something I have to say first."

Lance nods, willing away the rushing of his heartbeat, thunderous in his ears.

Keith shifts from foot to foot, pondering how he might convey to someone so immaculately unique, and beautiful, and simultaneously kind of infuriating, that he loves him. These types of feelings are incredibly difficult for Keith to vocalize. Feelings in general, as a matter of fact, feel almost impossible for Keith to communicate.

But his determination reigns over his intimidation of the immense, powerful way he feels toward Lance, once a stranger, then a teammate, then a friend, and now, vastly more important than any of those label. And so, with the gracelessness of Kaltenecker on ice skates yet the confidence he displays in battle, the words are hanging in midair: "I'm in love with you."

Lance would marry him in an instant if he could. His heart is beating so fast it feels like it might dissolve into nothingness, but he stands anyway, connecting his lips with Keith's in a soft, chaste kiss before any more words can be exchanged.

"I love you too," he murmurs, admiring the way the light falls across Keith's sculpted features and rosy lips. "It makes me crazy sometimes."

"Okay...cool," Keith responds breathlessly, and Lance breathes out a laugh. Keith's knees feel weak and shaky, and he's so overwhelmed by emotion that he's dizzy. Afraid he might pass out, Keith lets himself sink into the bed, following Lance's lead.

"Is it okay if I...?" Lance drapes an arm around Keith's waist, the brush of his arm making Keith's nerves jolt with fiery energy. But he hums out his consent, already feeling his eyelids droop with the exhaustion of the day.

Right now, it's his favorite feeling. Keith loves it than anything—to be held, to be loved, to feel safe; to be vulnerable in the arms of another. Lance's soft breaths are warm against the skin of his neck, and his arms clasp Keith’s waist loosely. The scent of something sweeter than strawberries envelops them, and Keith sighs as sleep overtakes him completely, content to exist like this forever.

**Author's Note:**

> hi everyone!!! Welcome back to my bad, melodramatic writing!!! :^) firstly I want to say thank you for all of the reads on the other two parts, I’m really excited about that :^) also I want to say I hope you guys liked this, I’m not satisfied with it (which I never am with my writing), but yeah I’m nervous about what you guys think bc I put Krolia in there and a very vague battle scene (this is s6 territory so I’m nervous) but I hope it was okay! To steal from drew monson: leave me a fucking comment because I am very lonely, and I will see you all in the next and final part :^) ♡


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